


winding down

by pregame



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M, Seriously fucked up, Shit, Vomit, disgusting, dont @ me, emeto, gross pregame ass, just everything bad, kiiiind of.., mastermind saihara, or.., this is so gross don't look at it, we're talking guts kids, when it says graphic it means graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 02:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17696219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pregame/pseuds/pregame





	winding down

_He’d finally done it._ Perhaps it hadn’t taken as much time as it seemed to, but for Saihara it had felt like _decades._ Someone had sniffed him out, and while he watched, too. It was surreal, really, in all the best ways. Although there wasn’t a camera capturing his face as he made the very bold, _but also very true_ declaration that Saihara was the one pulling the strings, Saihara _knew_ that voice, there was absolutely no mistaking it. It was none other than Rantaro Amami, the Ultimate Survivor. Even since the start of the 53rd annual killing game, that near impossible to read, emerald-eyed boy had piqued his interest above all the rest. Not only was his talent especially endearing, all the rest of him was, too. At least.. to Saihara. He admired the way he carried himself, laughed whenever he laughed, and enjoyed every last second of his interactions with the other students.. even if he was _sick_ with jealousy that they weren’t with him. It was just.. a breath of fresh air to see him run about in his.. _unnatural environment_. It was delightfully amusing to watch him wreck his brain night and day to try and decipher what made him an ultimate.. the fact that Saihara himself had stolen and locked away those memories made it all the better. He had quickly become the _only thing_ that the raven-haired boy cared about. Saihara had already achieved his ultimate goal, playing god over a world of mindless violence, manipulation,  _and despair_ , you really can’t top that off, you know?

Being directly affiliated with, and no less _the mastermind of a killing game_ had been nothing short of an honor, but the excitement and the _euphoria_ and the _insatiable desire_ to see naive teenagers rip one another limb from limb like wild animals—just for his entertainment—was a little too much for his body to handle. Not that that was a bad thing. It was just about time things wound down. That didn’t mean Saihara couldn’t take one last thing he wanted before he left this world, though. It had taken months of watching this particular mischief of lab rats drive themselves up the wall to decide what he wanted.. but now it was clear. What he wanted was Amami, and he was going to have him, whether the boy liked it or not. No matter how hard he cried or how loud he screamed for Saihara to stop and let him go, he was going to _his and only his._ Before Saihara even realized it, he was wandering about the boys’ dormitory after midnight, a small collection of stiletto knives shoved into his pockets. He was breathing far too heavily to just be walking at a moderate pace, but he felt as if he’d lose his dinner _any moment_ from how overwhelming all of this was. Saihara was about to take Amami for himself.. Amami! _Amami, Amami!_ He’d only snuck into the boy’s room a handful of times to rummage through his belongings and take a few choice things back to his own room, but _they’d slept together every single night._

Once Saihara decided it was time for him to call it a day, he’d zoom in on the camera stationed in Amami’s dorm room, and up the volume setting on the microphone he’d laid underneath his mattress some number of weeks ago. Every night he’d shower the screen in kisses, gush about how _intense_ and how unconditional and _unchallenged_ his love for the boy was, and eventually fall asleep to the sound of Amami breathing. It was the highest point of any day. Unfortunately, last night was the last night he’d ever have such an experience.. but what was about to transpire would make up for it all. Once he arrived at Amami’s doorstep, Saihara didn’t waste a second in nearly knocking his door down. It took a while for him to actually answer it, but if Saihara were to put himself in his shoes, well I guess being hesitant to answer the door in such a situation is understandable. Especially if you yourself had outed the one behind it all.

Then the door finally eased open, and behind it stood a very obviously groggy, disoriented Amami.. because it took a moment for him to register just who exactly had come to pay him a visit in the wee hours of the morning. When realization hit, his eyes nearly _tripled_ in size, all the color in his face vanished in an instant, and he hastily slammed the door shut. Or.. at least would have, if Saihara hadn’t snaked his hand in between door and frame. The sharp pain of the wooden door digging into his hide hadn’t phased him one bit. Amami somehow looked even more horrified, and took a few steps back as Saihara invited himself in, locking the door behind the both of them.

“Congratulations on figuring it out, Amami~!”, Saihara mused, a fit of maniacal giggles following suit. “You really were the most _sensible_ of the lot! I wouldn’t choose just anyone to be my _soulmate!”_ The other boy had backed himself into a wall, shakily opening his mouth to speak before Saihara beat him to it. “No, _no_ , no, sweetie.. *I don’t need you voicing your opinion on the matter.. no one’s going to get in the way of _us._ **Not even you.** ” Amami looked to be in a state of utter disbelief.. his lips were quivering.. his mouth was wordlessly opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. Saihara couldn’t have found it anymore amusing.. or _irresistibly adorable._ That was it, he couldn’t wait any longer.

He fished the longest of the knives out of his pocket, and drove it _straight through the boy’s hand_ , nailing him to the wall. Amami gave him just the sort of reaction he’d been looking for. He’d tried to scream, but it had quickly turned into a choking fit, and his body had instinctually lurched forward in a futile attempt to get away, intensifying the pain twice over. Amami would’ve probably fought back if Saihara hadn’t retrieved another one of the knives and sunk it into the fleshy, soft part of the boy’s thigh, resulting in his knees resorting to jello and collapsing out from underneath him. He nearly choked on his own tongue as the weight of his body caused the knife pinning him to the wall to tear straight through his hand. His arm fell to the floor motionless.. his index finger and thumb dangling from the rest of his hand. Maybe it was because of the unbearable pain, or perhaps it was the sign of his mangled hand, but without warning, the boy was sick all over himself. Even _that_ was cute to Saihara, it was _more than cute_ , really. He outstretched a surprisingly gentle hand to brush against the other’s cheek, a pleased sigh escaping him as the two held eye contact. Rantaro was especially gorgeous up close.. even with bile dripping from his chin. Saihara simply had to give him a kiss.

Shuichi was shaking violently from head to toe, and he nearly fell over onto Amami as he leaned himself in, pressing his lips against his and shuddering from how soft they were.. shuddering from the _delightfully sour_ taste of stomach acid and half-digested food flooding his senses. He brought a hand around to take hold of Amami’s wrist and check for a pulse as he dragged his tongue over the boy’s bottom lip, salivating like a hungry dog.. there was one. No fight was left in the boy, and it was dangerously slow, but it was still there. That meant he wasn’t _totally_ Saihara’s yet. It was time to fix that. Saihara hooked his fingers underneath Rantaro’s shirt, and raised it up and off with.. a decent amount of difficult, it’s not like the other party was cooperating. It was more than worth the trouble, though, Amami was even more attractive shirtless than he thought.. he wasn’t necessarily built. He wasn’t exactly.. _skinny_ , or overweight in any way, he was the ideal size and weight to play with, and Saihara’s hand was reaching for another knife all of its accord. With more enthusiasm than was appropriate, he drew a deep line starting from Amami’s collarbones to below his navel, _blood swiftly rushing to both his heads_ as he reached out to delve his hands into him, electricity dancing along his spine and making him shake. Saihara was more than mentally prepared for this, _it was something he’d always wanted_ , and decided to feel around Amami’s intestines first. They weren’t oily or anything, but they were definitely slippery with mucous, and slightly sticky to the touch, as drying blood tends to be. It wasn’t unlike what reaching into a bucket of warm, oversized worms would feel like.. Saihara again felt as if he’d throw up, but from the exact opposite of disgust.

He was astonished by how easily they were to unravel.. not to mention pull apart. Saihara unwound them until he couldn’t anymore, and got the idea to dissect him a little further, wringing the large intestine out onto the floor to see if anything would come out of it.. it did. What looked to be days of backed up matter did. The stench of it was would probably knock the average person out, but Saihara was _revelling in it_.. the unique odor of all his beloved’s bodily fluids meshing together smelled heavenly.. Amami was definitely not with him anymore. After he tired of digging around the boy’s entrails, he made his way up, running the back of his hand along every part of this masterpiece of a boy he could. The lungs felt.. especially interesting.. like thin plastic with ridges all along the outside.. and the heart felt not unlike the intestines, just softer. Saihara found himself getting lost in the different shades of blue and red and purple, he was so, _so_ glad that everything he laid his eyes upon was finally his. Saihara probably toyed with his body for hours before accepting the sad fact there was nothing more to see. As much as he wanted to lie there in Amami’s lifeless arms until he rotted with him, this physical body was getting in the way of them being together for all eternity. He wouldn’t dare leave without one last kiss, through. He’d raise Rantaro’s chin up ever so slightly and pressed their lips together once again.. it was certainly colder this time around, but warmth was still lingering. It was comfortable. Upon pulling back, Saihara told the other’s lifeless body what he should’ve told him when he was still alive, “I love you. _Endlessly._ ” With that, he took the same blade he’d butchered Amami with in hand, and rammed it deep into his chest cavity, death overtaking him instantly as he fell on top of _his everything_ , to rot together until someone decided to clean up their mess.


End file.
